The Imp Lord
by ulfark
Summary: What if Jaime failed to stop the Wildfire? The Lannister line is burned but not broken. Tyrion takes charge and changes Westeros
1. The King is dead, long live the Dwarf

**The Imp Lord**

**283 AC**

Tyrion is sixteen, I know wiki says he's ten cuz he's born in 273 but that screws up the timeline. So he's sixteen to make things more believable.

This means that he would be 31 instead of 25 when cannon starts in 298. It also solves the problem of Jaime being in the Westerlands to rescue Tysha after which Tyrion marries her at thirteen when Jaime is already supposed to be the kingslayer. I doubt the kingsguard could go home that often.

PS M because of vulgar language

* * *

He'd show his treacherous friend what a real dragon could do!

Aerys opened his mouth to order Rossart to burn the wildfire caches. He'd be reborn with scales and wings while Tywin would turn to ashes

He heard a faint rustling and swung his head around to spot the dagger hidden in the dark.

It was a white one. He'd almost forgotten that boy.

He'd been absolutely useless throughout. Nothing but a glorified servant that was too arrogant for his own good. He'd have killed him if he wasn't a hostage. Aerys glared at Jaime's hand resting on his pommel and became acutely aware that he'd sent out every other kingsguard to fight and none of his guard were his match.

A problem that shouldn't exist!

His servants were too treacherous to show their face, skulking in the hallways, afraid to meet his gaze, afraid that he'd see the betrayal in their hearts.

"Boy! Go speak sense to your father and be quick about it!" he shouted.

It galled him that he had to cower before a boy barely old enough to grow a beard. The incredulous gaze burned him even more but eventually the boy nodded and ran off. No doubt to join his traitor father. Better a traitor in front of his gate than at his back though.

Once he was sure that he was out of earshot he gave his real orders to Rossart. "Gather your brothers and ignite the wildfire caches on my command. You'll know it when you hear the bells ring."

"As you command my king"

Master and servant both grinned at each other for a short moment as they imagined the glorious fire that would cleanse their city from the rebel filth and give them the chance to rebuild it. It would be stronger, cleaner and more glorious than ever before!

That would be his legacy to his ancestors' city.

* * *

Aerys stood on his balcony overseeing the city, watching his old friend drive the dagger deeper into his back with every burned down house and terrified scream. The insult was unbearable. An insult he'd soon burn away. But not yet. He had to catch them all. He could only light the blaze once.

The first rats showed up at his keep. The ones that had raced ahead and taunted his men to come out. He scoffed, as if he was stupid enough to waste his men. He glanced down at the courtyard and spotted a few craven dragging their feet. He snorted in disgust after this ordeal was through he'd need to cull his ranks a bit.

He looked back at the city gate, watching for any signs of Tywin's entrance. The coward never led from the front. He wouldn't enter until he was sure of victory. But he couldn't delay any longer, the wildfire was vigorous enough to spread without all the caches needing to be lit. But it would give the lions too much time to escape the city. And if he waited too long then all the alchemists would be put to the sword before they could complete their duty.

With some regret at not being sure that Tywin died as well he drew a ornate dragonhorn from his belt and blew. The loud sound signaled the servants in the bell tower and soon the bells rung and were audible across the entire city. He listened to them and tried to imagine the awe they'd inspire in future songs before an all consuming roar drew his attention.

He saw a green flash before he was ripped from his spot and slammed into the wall behind him. He heard more than felt his bones crunch before he crumpled to the ground

He opened his eyes slowly and stared uncomprehendingly at the green light dancing across his room. Screams were everywhere. Not just from outside but also inside his own keep. It took a moment for him to realize his chest wasn't rising like it should.

He couldn't breath!

What was happening to him?

A servant barged through the door and started grabbing everything of value that he could get his grubby little hands on. He completely ignored the corpses of the servants that had been attending the king after a short moment to realize they couldn't stop him. Aerys burned with indignation to be seen and to be paid no more mind than a piddling servant. He was his rightful king! Normally he'd be quivering in fear at a mere glance but now Aerys was too weak to rattle off any orders.

He lay there as he listened to the pandemonium. Many shouted out for his guidance but even more confessed their treachery. Fleeing instead of finding their king, fleeing instead of retaking his glorious city after he'd vanquished their enemies.

Aerys was more certain than ever before. His subjects were unworthy of him. Disloyal and treacherous the lot of them. They couldn't understand his vision and the true danger that lurked beyond the Wall. Why they desperately needed to fulfill the prophecy. It was clear to him. This world was unworthy of being saved.

"The Others take them." He coughed out

* * *

**Lannisport**

Tyrion flipped a page in his book with a hint of nervousness. The gossip around him was still flying strong but there was little point in wondering. Tywin would win or he would die. Simple as that. Nothing he could do to change it. The plan was simple and treacherous, so the odds were in his favor.

He nodded to himself and then reread the same passage he'd been stuck on for the last few minutes, despite his eagerness to finally move on. He continued not-reading and holding a book for another half hour before he gave up. He was on his way to the kitchen to steal an apple for lack of anything better to do when his aunt came storming down the hallway and her eyes firmly locked on him.

"Aunt Genna to what do I owe the pleasure?" he greeted her warmly

"Tywin failed." and the world seemed to stop for a second, as Tyrion took in that simple statement. "A rider came." She stopped and snorted in derision "Deserter trying to save his skin more like. He said that Tywin entered the city and sacked it but when he was about to lay siege to the Red Keep the whole city went up in green flames"

His eyes widened "What of Jaime?" Tyrion immediately asked

A touch of anger and sorrow passed through Genna's eyes and Tyrion guessed it was about his utter disregard for his father and at the broken relationship between him and his father. But he couldn't even be bothered to pretend to care about him or his uncle when Jaime could be hurt.

"I don't know. The Red keep was still standing but the heat could be felt for miles." aunt Genna answered

Fuck!

Jaime!

He couldn't believe it. Happy carefree Jaime who had only one mean bone in his body, put there by Cersei, was dead. Cooked alive, with the Red keep as his oven.

His mind flashed back to all the fun they had together. They'd been born different, in both body and mind. But they had the same appreciation of humor. Some may boast about their best nights that were filled with booze and the embrace of women but Tyrion's were filled with quiet nights by the fire trading jokes and witty insults with his brother.

He quickly found the nearest chair to climb into. For he couldn't even crash into them like a normal distraught man. He wanted to sit there and wallow for who knows how long but his aunt was snapping her fingers in his face.

"Get up Tyrion. You can drown your sorrows in a wench's cunt later. Right now, you need to be the Lord of the Rock before your sister gets back. Or worse, allies herself with someone against you!"

The faint knowledge that Cersei had been in the baggage train of the army to wed herself to Robert Baratheon as soon as possible came trickling back to him. His aunt was right. If he didn't move now, then the Lordship would go to his future nephew and he'd be in a cell for the rest of his days. Fear and self-preservation snapped him out of his grief.

"Do the Targaryens still live?" He asked as his mind grasped at straws to bind together a plan.

Aunt Genna's nose wrinkled "Yes your father and uncle died in the fire. But luckily they probably died too fast to suffer too much, thank you for asking. And my condolences to you too Tyrion. As for the king…" She shrugged. "Probably alive if he planned this, though he'd be mad enough to think he could survive it. Elia and her children were still inside last I heard but the Queen is on Dragonstone with Viserys."

He blanched a bit at her tone but he only gave her a apologetic look before moving on "The war will continue then. The Tyrells have a daughter, she has a son, they'll have a marriage alliance."

She nodded and rested her hands on a nearby window sill. "And they'll have more eager young men to ram our doors down than we can handle. Tywin's last act won't be well received and we don't have the strength to ignore their ire."

Tyrion grimaced at how his father's clever little gambit came back to haunt them. He'd taken all the lords and heirs to share the glory of winning the war with him or to bind them in treachery should the worst happen.

None of the other noble houses could replace house Lannister now. They had neither the men, reputation or quite frankly the heirs to do it. The whole of the Westerlands was utterly devoid of knights as a matter of fact. Only the men at arms and the levies remained. A headless army. He'd need to rebuild the command structure or the best he could hope for was a giant brawl.

He spoke confidently nonetheless he needed to show wisdom and leadership before doubt could set in. "The rebel alliance is nearly broken. Too much infighting with loyalists and Baratheon took a beating before they could link up at the Trident. Not to mention the Bloody Trident itself. Dorne and the Crownlands are spent but the Reach is still fresh and can stalemate the rebel alliance by itself. That leaves us and the Ironborn as the tie breakers."

Fuck, the Ironborn were in a better position to be kingmakers than him right now. He released a long sigh and hoped that his father's schemes would still work without him holding the strings. He'd overheard enough to know Tywin had secretly backed Balon's usurpation of his father but he doubted Balon would honor a dwarf as an ally.

Tyrion could only hope lord Balon crowned himself king and reveled in the chaos of a drawn out civil war while the Westerlands licked its wounds. He smiled grimly at the thought of actually hoping for them to raid his shores so long as they fucked everyone else up the arse too.

Aunt Genna smiled as the glimmer of hope returned to her eyes "You think you can negotiate us out of this?" She turned to look outside a nearby window and rested her hands on the windowsill.

Tyrion stood up out of his chair "Yes, it'll be tricky but they need us more than they want to admit. Our knights may be gone but we can still field thirty thousand peasants if we want to. Enough to tip the balance, though not enough to dictate terms like father wanted."

"Tywin got us into this mess." Aunt Genna said succinctly. Her hands gripping the stone tight enough to turn white

"The Ironborn though" mused Tyrion "They've been waiting too. We're all wounded prey to them now and we happen to be closest. We better prepare a welcoming feast for them." Whatever agreement father had with Balon is worth sheep shit now.

"We still have our fleet" She gestured to the imposing fleet still lying at anchor in the harbor.

He nodded "True and we've had it here in the harbor for months. The men crewing it are blushing virgins and soon to be salt wives. We won't win on the open seas. Better to use them as fishing boats and trading vessels to get some of our gold back"

Genna glared at him "And how will you beat them then?"

Tyrion shrugged "Like a thieving whore. I'll lure them into the city and then shut the door and whack them from behind when they aren't looking. Best to stick to what I know best" He said with a self deprecating smile.

Aunt Genna rolled her eyes in fond exasperation and softened her stance a bit though her hawk like stare remained firmly fixed on him, demanding answers.

No doubt she was grieving for her brothers and was taking some frustration out on him but he wasn't here to be anyone's whipping boy anymore. Father was dead and only Cersei could stop him.

"The Lords?" aunt Genna prompted to get the conversation going again.

"Cersei holds more loyalty for now" He admitted candidly but when he spotted doubt in his aunt's eye he quickly followed with "They think they can rule through her but fools do foolish things and you can only rein in so much stupidity. Unless of course you bind her in matrimony."

"A bidding war" Genna grimly concluded.

Whoever could bring her the Rock would claim the right to plow the field between her legs.

Tyrion shrugged " All the lesser lords know that her cunt is drier than the sands of Dorne for them." He mumbled as an afterthought "And just as likely to doom entire armies."

"Perhaps" admitted Genna "But you've no cunt to sell and you're not as beloved." She eyed him up and down, her eye lingering on his deformities

He snorted "The realm knows me for the dwarf I am. But my coin is still good enough for the smallfolk and they hold more power now than highborn lords that are insulted by my mere existence."

Gemma grimaced at that "Careful Tyrion, coins stacks are a poor foundation for true loyalty. A bigger stack will knock yours down."

Tyrion stamped his foot down upon the floor for emphasis. "I hold the Casterly mines, my stack is the biggest in all the Seven kingdoms. And I won't rely solely on that. I intend to rally them with my sewers!"

Aunt Genna just stared at him uncomprehendingly for a long while before he sighed "Take a deep breath and tell me what you smell. Whatever it is, it isn't shit. And that's a damn nose full better than their parents had and they know it. I promise results and I deliver them. I may be reviled but I'm a known quantity. Cersei however, is unpredictable and uncaring of their plight."

"Perhaps" She sighed and after a moment of silence said "I tried teaching that girl some sense. That women could be more than broodmares but…" she trailed off and Tyrion wasn't going to stop this revelation. It might explain a lot.

"I was angry when I got sold off to the Freys" She admitted "Even if I've grown to appreciate my husband. I thought Cersei might have the power to change things- she was always destined for great things, Tywin would see to it,- but as she grew older I realized that she would be a shining beacon of idiocy to be used against anyone that argued for women in power. I can't let her win. For all our sakes"

Tyrion could understand that somewhat. Even if he didn't fully understand what women went through just as aunt Genna couldn't understand the universal scorn for a dwarf. Cersei was definitely going to undermine the Lannister name and apparently she was contagious to just about anything associated with her. Probably blondes as well.

He briefly wondered if there would be more blonde whores in the future who were denied other trades?

Tyrion hummed considering that "Making her less than a footnote in history may just be the most grievous insult I can ever deliver."

"Anything less than her own song and a maester to quill her biography would have her ride off to take the Black in an attempt to be memorable." aunt Genna commented dryly

The thought of Cersei freezing her cunt shut at the wall put a smile on his face "I'll do my part. But I can't say the same for those adventurous little scamps down at the Trident. They might part with their common sense and marry her if she promised the Westerlands to their cause."

"I'll start writing a letter then to remind the good lords paramount that a brother comes before a sister." She snorted in disgust "First time the Dance of the Dragon was actually good for something"

"I promise I'll put women into some high positions to balance out this horrible precedent" Tyrion compromised readily

Aunt Genna rolled her eyes "Yes and if those women happen to be young and willing then that's a happy coincidence. I know you nephew and I don't care if they bounce up and down all night, so long as they are just as skilled and enthusiastic at their day jobs as well. The Seven know that will be more than the lords ever did."

Tyrion gave her a charming smile that got distorted into a lecherous one as he thought of all the changes he needed to make to his household. So many were loyal to Cersei before him, so many openings to fill.

Aunt Genna gave him a hard stare and said dryly "The realm would be a paradise straight out of a song if all that threatened it were dicks. You can fuck till all the whores in the West walk bowlegged Tyrion, just fix our problems while you wait for your second head to rise again." She flexed her little pinky at him with a crooked smile

Tyrion laughed out loud at the request. "I promise not to visit a brothel for three turns of the moon if that would set your mind at ease, things will have calmed down by then.`

Genna rolled her eyes "What a magnanimous and generous sacrifice Tyrion I'm positive every noble lady from here to the wall would swoon at the mere mention of it. Perhaps you should inform them personally while you shop for a new lady of the Rock?"

Tyrion almost grimaced as he was reminded of the disgust and despair the low ranked ladies showed him whenever the mere possibility was implied. The hunt for a wife may be harder than Gerion's quest to reclaim Brightroar. Possible alliances however, would dictate whom it would be. Gold and swords, not love.

He put on a showman like smile "I'll get right to it after I see a girl about making my bald man cry. I feel a proper mourning is in order to remember my father." Tyrion smirked at her, despite her show of loyalty he didn't fully trust her with his plans yet and telling her his wish list was too risky for now. Luckily repulsing people into leaving him alone with his whoring was a finely honed skill.

Gemma rolled her eyes again "Pissing on his grave would be quicker but we all must make do with what we have. Even if it is less than what we've wished for." She cast a gimlet eye at him before striding away. She called back to him "I'll relay your orders to the fleet and send that raven since you're occupied by pressing business"

Tyrion blinked and took a moment to properly admire her parting remark. As he mused he briefly considered grabbing some gold and following through with his lewd suggestions if only to take his mind of things. But sadly he really had little time to get things done so he would have to limit himself to half a cask of Arbor gold.

Perhaps he could indulge if someone helpfully reminded Robert that Cersei was Rhaegar's wannabe bribe and that he was getting the prince's unwanted leavings. Hopefully he would smash her head in with a cry of "DragonFucker!"

With those pleasant thoughts he went off in search of his captain of the guards. He needed some muscle to look imposing and a place to find some mercenaries. Ranks and hands needed filling.

* * *

**Later that night**

Tyrion laughed as loud as he could at the lame joke. The mercenaries around him didn't seem to notice or were used to fake laughing. Either way it didn't matter. Some false compliments and a chuckle to sweeten the pile of gold was more than worth it to hire these louts.

Tyrion looked around him. They weren't the youngest or the most skilled but they were scarred by pretty songs. These were veterans of the Nine Penny war. The men skilled enough to fight in this war but disillusioned enough not to.

War was a bottomless void that always craved more wide eyed idiots. Tywin had promised riches for any who could keep up with the forced march to the capital.

Few had kept up and those that did were survivors were still trickling back home, poorer than they started. These men however, instantly knew Tywin's promise to be empty air and proceeded to just drink and whore until a better offer came along when he got defeated or won and needed more men to consolidate his holdings.

Many scorned them as cowards but Tyrion saw common sense instead of wobbly knees. He'd befriended them before Tywin had even left the West, certain that the time spent would pay off eventually. Sadly, it had happened sooner than he thought. He'd avenge Jaime though and these men were going to help him.

Tyrion needed commanders not bannermen. These men wouldn't be fooled by a pretty song sung by Cersei's tits. They wouldn't ask for more when they were satisfied with a reliable whore. Reality not fantasy drove them. They weren't loyal to his name nor to each other. He could replace their leader and they'd accept it with only minor grumbling. As long as he kept the gold flowing they'd stay loyal and their leaders couldn't extort him for their support.

Tywin may have alienated Westeros with how he dealt with the Reynes of Castamere but the man had a point. Fucking nobles were unreliable cunts. Tywin scared them into obedience, Tytos tried bribing them but Tyrion had a unique opportunity to just replace them. He'd give the lord's responsibilities to the steward and let the situation fester until people just accepted it. If the steward got uppity then he'd be replaced.

It made his position more vulnerable to hostile takeovers but overall it would be less of a headache than balancing the needs of dozens of spoilt nobles who all looked down on him. He had no desire to be the Nanny of the West for the rest of his life.

"Birds could have nested in the bastard's mouth by the time he found his wits to reply!" a mercenary roared in laughter

Tyrion gave out another chuckle but it was getting a little tedious. It was time to wrap things up. This had been the ninth bar of the evening and by his calculations he had enough men to start forming a new command structure. He'd weed out the incompetent and disloyal later but for now it was enough.

He grabbed a nearby whore "I think I'll put my head to use before I'm too drunk to keep it up!" He said loudly to the laughing room. A few men guffawed and drank deeply while another replied loudly "The girl will praise your cock as if it was sculpted by the Smith himself. She'll gasp at it in wide eyed awe and you'll be so impressed with yourself that you won't even notice the cum stains on her dress that the last dozen men left behind."

"I don't doubt it" He shouted loudly "But this time she'll put some real effort into it after my purse thuds on the ground. She'll transform into the maiden herself, all pure and innocent. She'll be looking eagerly but nervously at the sight of my cock, but when she starts moaning the whore next door will look longingly at the wall wishing it was me instead of you that was fucking her!" He said to raucous laughter

The Truth when stated boldly was powerful. But a lie stated boldly wasn't far behind and was easier to come by. The easy admission followed by a boast disarmed the insult better than any red faced defense. It even earned him some points and had his whore fake blushing.

Yes words had power and he was going to prove it. He'd prove it to the West and then he'd prove it to whomever wanted to sit in the chair that was more uncomfortable than a dry buggering.

* * *

**Robert Baratheon**

**Rebel leader outside the remains of King's landing**

Robert grunted in satisfaction as he came. He wasn't mounting the whore like an old workhorse and riding her till she passed out like he used to, but it was a start.

The fucking present that blasted dragon left him was fading and soon so would his memory. But to do that he'd have to wipe out his legacy and his cursed dynasty. Everyone knew the Targs were obsessed with their ancestors, if even one survived then they'd be singing Rhaegar's song until the Seven gave up hope on mankind and started from scratch.

He pushed the whore away so he could get a better view out the window despite the good job she'd been doing fondling his cock.

The city looked like shit. Or the shit looked like a burned out hollow of a city. Almost every house had been burnt to ash and the scattering of stone houses had sagged more than a ninety year old whore. Only the Red keep was still standing and even that was blackened. It had taken days for the ash to cool down enough so that his men could enter without being cooked alive in their armor. Thus it came to no surprise to find the castle empty save a few corpses and in danger of collapsing. There had been nothing to loot except the iron throne that Jon had insisted on taking, to the misery of the dozen men carrying it.

It was a right nightmare. For him and everyone else. Even the whore in his room hadn't been a whore until the twice cursed wildfire took her family away. Almost half a million had died in the fire and more died of starvation afterwards. Southern traders were blockaded by the Tyrells and those from the Riverlands had fled at the sight of the clashing armies. Not even the greedy essosi merchants were willing to supply the refugees without coin. Coin Jon said they didn't have. If they supported them on their own purse they'd be chewing on wood themselves within a fortnight.

In short a lot of people sitting on their ass looking at him for solutions instead of doing it them-bloody-selves.

He had none to give and time was running out. Ned had wanted to press on to relieve Storm's end and then hunt down leads for Lyanna but with this disaster they couldn't leave. Jon was adamant that they help or else none would believe in his kingship.

It wasn't his kind of fight though. Give him a battlefield and a hammer and he'd be…. Well, him in a whorehouse. But numbers and whining and he'd rather cut his own damn cock off than listen to it.

Damn thing wasn't going away though despite this little pressure reliever. Unfortunately, even he couldn't fuck enough whores to single-handedly stimulate the economy. Nor was his plan of letting his army do it for him well received.

With another grunt he pulled up his breeches and walked out of the room after throwing some coin at the girl's feet. The lack of yelling assured him it was enough.

"Your grace, lord Arryn has requested your presence." a guard informed him as soon as he stepped five feet from the door. Bloody vultures, not a moment's rest.

He sighed but nodded and followed despite his own misgivings. It wasn't long before he was led into another little room in the little village that no one had ever heard of before. It was kinda pathetic that this was were he was going to be crowned if things kept up. But it would be even worse if his army was crushed when the Red keep came down on their heads. Proper ceremony took a backseat when it gave Aerys another chance to take down a second army. Robert was not going down in the books as the king that got crushed by his own bleeding castle!

He walked inside and roared "What's it now Jon!" He wanted to give some examples of other pointless little things he had wanted to discuss before but his mind couldn't grasp one in time.

The old man sighed "Relax Robert it's about the war"

His eyebrows jumped up in surprise and a smile cracked wide open "Well, why didn't you say so!" He shouted triumphantly as he imagined the glorious battle to come for Storm's end and the hunt for the Sand whore and her Dragonspawn. He'd even swim across the Black bay to Dragonstone if he had to for the Dragon queen and her clutch.

Ned shook his head as usual but he could spot that faint little smile of his a mile away. The stoic little bugger.

He truly pitied his Tully wife. The man would probably come with a face made out of stone and a few heartfelt words of gratitude. Almost made him want to give the poor girl a pity fuck so she'd know what a true fucking was there wasn't any time to do it nor did he want to offend his friend who actually cared about maidenheads.

Jon interrupted his thoughts "The food from the Riverlands has arrived and distributed to the small folk." the lord paused a moment to collect his thoughts "I've assigned men to oversee the resettlement effort. Most will be living somewhere else within a few short months allowing us to use our resources against the Reach and Dorn."

Robert blinked "Wait what? You mean we have to wait months or can we march now?" He asked in confusion

Ned spoke up "We're going to negotiate with the Reach to end this. Dorne has no more men to give and Tywin is dead. The Westerlands are in a succession crisis but won't be for long. Tywin's second son has been hiring sellswords to help consolidate his rule and banishing those loyal to his sister but for now his sister holds more loyalty."

Jon took over "If we support her claim then we can end this war with the Westerland's support. The Reach will be fighting a war on two fronts. " Jon spread his hands far apart before slowly bringing them together as if squeezing the very life out of the Reach "Even Mace Tyrell knows that he can't win that."

Robert snorted "Never underestimate what Mace doesn't know."

Jon rolled his eyes, no doubt blaming his opinion on his losses against the Reach "Be that as it may. We still need them. Our men are tired and wounded while the Reach men are fresh. We're in no shape to force an end to this. Heck we'll most likely be playing defense until our men heal up." Jon's eyes darted towards his own bloody wounds.

He stifled a glare as he knew the man meant well. It still left him irritable though to be reminded of that dragon's little fuck-you-gift "What do you want Jon, spit it out!" Did they want him to sign some piece of paper or chat up some stupid jumped up lordling?

Jon looked to Eddard, as if pleading him to say it with his eyes. Robert already feared he wasn't going to like this but when Ned hesitated he knew for sure. Ned never fucking hesitated unless it was a pile of steaming shit or a woman. He swallowed reflexively.

Ned took a deep breath before he turned to him "You need to marry Cersei Lannister for the good of the Realm." He said bluntly, closely followed by Jon slapping his own face.

Robert flinched as if his best friend told him he had to stick his dick in a viper's nest.

Heck, going off house symbols that would be a whole lot better despite them being dragon fuckers. He'd met Cersei before. The memory wasn't pleasant to say the least. He doubted the conceited little cunt remembered him since she was stalking Rhaegar like Jon Connington at the time but her razor sharp tongue and arrogance had made an impression.

It was part of the reason why he was so fixated on marrying Lyanna. The thought of accidentally marrying a bitch like that had made Lyanna's honesty and open disgust with his whoring positively endearing to him. Cersei was all honeyed words and golden tresses, absolutely divine to look at from a distance. Her personality however, bore close resemblance to the swamplands of the Neck.

Lyanna in contrast had been beautiful and direct. No hidden pitfalls to be wary off, no hidden meanings or insults, or false courtesies. It was simple and honest. If he fucked up then she told him and how he could fix it. He could still ignore her if he wanted to but at least he wouldn't be pulling out his hair trying to figure out what she wanted. It also didn't hurt that she could hold a conversation about tourneys and warhorses till the point he thought she was his best friend with tits.

"I think I'll try using a bees' nest as protection before I'll dip my sword in that…" he trailed off as he couldn't find something suitably vile enough to call Cersei.

Jon rolled his eyes again "As much as we all appreciate you pioneering new ways to… ah.. protect ourselves. The facts remain. We need an army. Ours is beat up, so we need a new one. The Lannisters have one. We can choose between the Imp or the girl. The girl is faster and easier. You are unmarried. The girl is unmarried. The imp is a boy. Do I need to go on or do you want to confess to something?" Jon raised an questioning eyebrow

Robert blinked twice before he laughed so hard that people actually took a step back in surprise "I might actually start sword swallowing before I'll marry that shrew" he chortled

Ned, who off course hadn't even let out a little smile, said hesitatingly "I know you want to marry my sister but she may be…" He choked up, as if the words themselves pained him.

Robert was quick to reassure him wordlessly that he knew what he meant but then the noble fool tried to push past it to say it anyway. So Robert shouted over him to spare him the grief "I know Ned. Blasted I know. But there's a chance and until I see her either dead or alive. I won't set her aside for anyone. Besides why the fuck should I make her queen, when she comes to us on fucking bended knee? I say we ask her to turn around and flip up her skirt!" He shouted triumphantly half expecting a boisterous roar to greet him in approval.

Ned's maiden like virtue however, caused him to blush and the old man looked exasperated again. But Robert spotted that gleam in his eyes that told him he was considering it despite his coarse language. Yes! He may just avoid that harpy and marry his dream girl yet.

Jon slowly turned to Ned. He didn't speak right away but he stared. No one interrupted him as he weighed the possibilities. Ned stared right back and Robert grabbed a flagon of wine to pass the time. He was on his second cup when Jon finally spoke.

"If we offered her young Edmure then it could work." He finished quietly with a mumbled "Their ages aren't far apart."

Robert heard it just fine though "True they were practically born on the same day compared to your fish, you cradle fucker!" He laughed again to lighten the mood and to prevent any dissent from Ned. He'd be so distracted by his jest that he'd forget to protest even if he wanted to and then accept it later on as the momentum shifted against him. It always worked like a charm.

Jon grimaced at the thought and Ned seemed grimmer at the reminder of his own nuptials. Robert could only silently commiserate with them though. Neither man was prone to a heart to heart over some booze or a fight. Whether honor or duty kept their lips sealed tighter than a septa's cunt he didn't know or care. He just knew they'd feel better if they parted them.

Robert broke the awkward silence before the stoic duo stalled until evening fall. "Write Hoster, see if he will agree."

Jon snapped his attention back to him and jumped onto the order like a beggar in flea bottom on a gold dragon "I'm sure he will. He once tried to set up my wife with Jaime only for Tywin to refuse him. The thought of his son being heir to the Westerlands would please him and make Tywin roll in his grave."

Robert nodded happily. Edmure got a hot wife who'd hopefully die of childbirth and get two lord paramountships and he got an army and hopefully his Lyanna. Everybody wins

"That's a lot of land for one boy to rule, Jon. Are we sure he can hold the Westerlands together? Wouldn't his uncle be a better choice?" asked Ned

Robert's smile dropped off his face as the unassailable reason threw mud on his party. Blasted, Ned was supposed to be too distracted to protest.

Jon nodded "Normally I'd agree with you but I overheard a fight between lord Brynden and Lord Hoster. Words were exchanged and I highly doubt after hearing them that we can force Lord Brynden to marry anyone."

The old man let that sink in for a moment before he continued "Besides we need to bribe them with something. We may not be weak but we do not have them over a barrel either Robert. We can't demand anything, only ask. And you know Cersei will have trouble enough marrying a future lord paramount let alone a second son old enough to be her father."

Robert snorted "Her head scrapes more clouds than the Eyrie does. You'd think marrying the prince was her birthright."

"Shall I write our father in law or will you?" asked Ned with a small smile directed at Jon.

Robert felt a little stab in his heart at the paltry display of gallows' humor. He was going to miss the bastard. No doubt his new wife would suck what little fun Ned had out of him and display his balls on the mantelpiece.

He barely heard who would write Hoster and then things muddled onto logistics again and he tuned out. He only looked up when a maester entered with a raven, something about Tyrion offering to take the refugees of their hands and that his ships would arrive in a few months. He noted the happy smile on Jon´s face and took it as a sign that he could doze off again. He wasn't asked any questions so he didn't bother asking any either. He was busy daydreaming about Rose or was it Mary? When both of them stood up and were shaking hands he jumped out of his seat as well.

"Wait what about the war? Are we marching or not?" he asked bluntly.

Both of them looked at him in confusion. No doubt wondering how he missed it during their conversation but dammit he wasn't built for these kinds of things.

"We're going to hold position until our wounded are healed and we'll court the Westerlands to pressure the Reach into surrendering Robert. You were still with us for that." Jon reminded with another roll of his eyes.

Robert nodded sheepishly and slowly got up as well to shake hands. After pleasantries were done with and both of them declined invitations to go drink with him. Robert retired back to the inn and called up another whore and a flagon of wine. The sun soon set and the ugly reminder of dragon rule disappeared from the horizon and with it all the problems that it brought with it. For one bloody night at least.

This ruling business is thirsty work Robert thought just before shouting "That's right bitch, take it all!"


	2. Being sold is what we're best at

Ashara stared at the crib. She stared but not saw nothing. Nothing that hinted at life. Her stillborn, her unlamented bastard she thought with scorn. But not at the child but at the world for cursing her birth and Ned for marrying that Trout when they exchanged words and cloaks in front of a heart tree at Harrenhal. She'd gone from being the proud and blushing wife of a second son to the grieving lady of Winterfell to the forgotten mistress in a short few weeks.

Honor, she thought Ned had it. But now the world thought she'd lost hers for losing her maidenhead to her rightful husband.

It wasn't fair. Things weren't supposed to be like this. Elia should be coddling her third child by now and she should be at court still, since Ned wouldn't need to be in the North to rule the wasteland. Elia would have gladly given them a holdfast near King's landing. They'd be equally removed from family but both could visit by ship whenever they wanted.

She could have accepted living in the North and Winterfell had been a unpleasant but welcome surprise. What she couldn't accept was that Ned had abandoned her and their child. Only a single letter of apology before setting her aside.

She desperately wanted to fix things somehow. To prove that she was better than that Tully bitch. But she had no army to give. And what did it say about their union when swords were more important than her?

She kept pondering it, questioning Ned, questioning herself, asking herself, where did she go wrong?

Her brother walked into the room, avoiding her eyes as always. He'd always been cowardly like that. Give him a few bandits and he'd happily charge them down while savoring the terror in their eyes. But a distraught woman and he disappeared faster than a patron at a whore house who was told he'd fathered a child.

Alaric opened his mouth and after giving her the chance to inspect the whiteness of his teeth he closed it again. Ashara wanted to ignore him but the letter clutched in his fist roused her enough to ask him "Have you heard of Elia?" She wasn't so far gone that she would forget her best friend and sister in all but blood.

Allaric gave her a gentle smile as he found his courage "Yes. She has arrived safely at Dragonstone. Apparently chaos reigned inside the Red keep when word spread that Aerys wanted to burn the Capital down, allowing her to escape in the confusion with her children."

Ashara exhaled in relief as the weight of not knowing fell off her shoulders. Perhaps she should see her in person so that any last doubts could be erased. Her eyes glanced back at the crib and hopefully remind her of better times. "That's wonderful brother. I'll start packing and join her as soon as possible in Sunspear." She tried smiling with her eyes but it fell flat. Her brother's grimace told her so.

"No, Dorne needs, no, We need you to travel North not South" said Alaric before falling silent at the fierce glare he received when he said North. "No, not there, I mean the Westerlands."

Her ire subsided when she realized she wouldn't have to prostrate herself before that betrayer. She still didn't know if she wanted to slap him or kiss him. "What for?" She asked without enthusiasm.

"Tywin is dead and the Rebels have backed Cersei so we need to back his son Tyrion. Prince Doran wants an alliance with Tyrion to prevent an Western front from opening up." Alaric said facing the window instead of her.

Ashara would have laughed if she could. Her child wasn't even skull and bones but she was already being auctioned off to the next bidder. Unbidden her head turned North. But what was she really waiting for, hoping for?

Ned wouldn't ride down and make her his wife again. He'd be fracturing his alliance and cause his own death or a new war. Maybe not today, but bad blood would fester and it would happen in their children's days. If anything she knew of Ned was true then it was that he did not relish war. He hated it.

"Am I to be betrothed then? Or do you merely want me to spread my legs?" She asked with more heat than she intended. She held no illusions. The chivalrous and gallant lords of the South wouldn't see her as anything but a good roll in the hay now that she was dishonored. The hunt was over, the little deer had been caught and buggered. No chase, no thrill, no suitors.

She smirked a bit at the sudden tension in her brother's shoulders. The crinkling of crushed paper was music to her ears. At least someone suffered along with her. At least someone cared that she'd be bedded by the ugliest man, no boy in the Seven kingdoms. Even in Dorne people had heard of the Imp and the scorn Tywin had for him.

Alaric finally turned towards her with regret shining in his eyes "I wish I could say no. But we guard the gates to Dorne. If the Reach surrenders then the Martells would let all of Dorne burn before they would hand over Elia and her children. They will let the rebels break their army in the desert. The Martells will win but not decisively. At best, our lands will be ransomed back to us. We might not be the Daynes of Starfall anymore unless…" he trailed off

Ashara scoffed "So you want the Imp to be too dazzled by my tits to look at how much he's paying for our precious Starfall?" She glared at her brother for a bit though it held some appeal to her. Not the bedding part but the purpose it would give her.

Dishonored ladies didn't have a happy ending unless their house was powerful enough that an alliance was still desirable. Otherwise they ended up being silent sisters, septas and wives to knights seeking favor.

Her house wasn't powerful. It only had the prestige that the Kingsguard gave them and even that was fading fast with Arthur's actions. Her best hope was being a lady in waiting for the rest of her life to Elia. She loved Elia but she didn't want to be stuck in her shadow forever. Nor did she want to end up an old crone who had a few bastards through random flings. She wanted to outshine Ned. To show him what he had missed. Being the lady of the Rock could give her that. It was petty but she'd have an army to compete with the Tullies and Ned would have to beg her to stop her new husband or lover, whatever.

Alaric took a firmer stance and put on his lord's voice "Ashara, we all need to make sacrifices. Your brother was willing to give his life for us, all I'm asking is that you wed a boy. He's young and inexperienced. You can rule the Westerlands in all but name if you play it right." he paused a bit to let it sink in. "If you don't then the rebels will march down the Prince's pass, kill Arthur and then consolidate the north of Dorne by swinging west to put Starfall to the sword. At best only your family dies, at worst Elia as well." He said as gravely as possible

Ashara however, scoffed again. "You think you can intimidate me with that doom and gloom speech?" perhaps it would have worked before she met Ned. But no one was better at doom and gloom with a sprinkle of 'woe is me' than him. She briefly wondered if it had been pity, that drove her, not love but she cast it aside. "You can flee Starfall and Arthur can abandon a dead prince. Both of you only need to move to Sunspear to be safe. Stupid vows and pride stop the lot of you. So I have to say a vow and give up my pride to save you?" She asked scornfully

Alaric glared back at her "Honor not pride Ashara! Honor is what held the Seven kingdoms together for so long. It was honor, not dragons that kept us from revolting until king Aerys went mad. It is honor that protects you against the savagery of men. Do you think you would have had only one bastard without honor?" he asked rhetorically "Ask your precious Ned what happens to wildling women or Oberyn to Essosi women." He paused only for a moment before he shouted "They get stolen! Not courted but kidnapped and then brutally raped until the life fades from their eyes. You'd be a broodmare that would make any nightmare you've had about being one look like a paradise. Clever words and fleeting smiles would be worthless. It's only honor that protects you. It's men like me and Arthur who protect you. But if we fall then who will?"

Ashara blinked and took a step back from the unexpected vitriol. She tried to find words but none could deny his truth. She had heard enough reports about the war to know what happened to the peasants. Forgotten honor meant villages were raped, raided and razed to the ground. A knight that would give his life to protect her wouldn't think twice about cutting down a peasant girl if she was in his way. She blinked at that realization

"It's status that protects me. A knight would cut down a peasant as easily as taking his fast if she looked at him wrong. Honor doesn't extend its protection very far, brother." She held up a hand to stall Alaric's retort "But I hear you brother. We won't have status for much longer. Arthur's star is dead and Elia will need to remarry if we want to survive this. I will try to wed this Imp or at least prepare him for Elia if she is forced to marry him instead."

She let out a hollow laugh "Is it cruel to hope for that?" She looked away from her brother "To hope for Dorne to burn so that we'd be desperate enough to wed our princess to a Dwarf?"

Her brother could only offer a softly spoken "No" and a reassuring stare she saw from the corner of her eye.

* * *

**Mace Tyrell**

His hunting knife flayed off a thin slice of his pheasant and he popped it into his mouth. He knew Stannis couldn't see his enjoyment of the succulent piece of flesh so he made some exaggerated tummy rubs to get the point across. He loved this little game. Mostly because he was winning, but still.

Storm's end was impregnable not just virtually but literally. The keep stood on an island that was only connected to the mainland by one puny bridge. Sure it was wide enough to fit twelve horsemen side to side but it was also raised and inaccessible. He literally couldn't cross the chasm and the two hundred foot drop into the sea made even his bravest banner men reluctant to jump it. His fleet had little more success. There was only a small beach to land on and his men got cut down by arrows before they could do any damage. The ships were a nice blockade but otherwise useless since the archers couldn't fire high up enough to make a difference.

Sieging the bitch was his only option. At least that was what he had told Aerys whenever he complained or asked for more men. Mace wasn't a fool despite what everyone thought. Cowards arrived late and got nothing but loyally besieging the rebel leader's keep fulfilled his duty and he could name his price once Aerys ran out of men. He'd be the kingmaker and ransom the Iron throne back.

At least that was the plan. Simple and effective. Nothing could go wrong. Except for a Targaryen deciding he could fly. He would have thrown in with Robert if he knew the king was gonna kill himself. The greatest casualty list in this war was from a suicide attempt instead of a battle. It was honestly depressing on all fronts.

He looked over at his second in command Randyl Tarly "So what did the old man say?" He asked now that they were done with supper.

Randyl swallowed his mouthful quickly with a sour look on his face. Hmm would he ever find a cook capable of pleasing that palette he silently wondered

"Lord Jon Arryn agreed to give Elia and her children free passage to return to us in exchange for your terms."

Mace grinned widely. The concession of food to Stannis, a six month truce and removal of the trade blockade to the crown lands were minor losses compared to the victory of gaining the next heir to the throne. Prince Aegon was of an age with his new baby girl and Elia would be surrounded by Reach men. Dorne was practically powerless, they would have no choice but to accept his marriage proposal and do so with a smile on their faces.

"Good job Randyl, with this we are one step closer to winning this war" on our terms he thought

Lord Tarly kept glowering at his plate though "Princess Elia escaped by ship." He said bluntly and stared at Mace's face for a long moment before continuing "The ink was already dry before we found out she was gone. A Kingsguard smuggled them out while the Red keep was in chaos."

Mace snapped his head to his fleet "Perhaps an escort is needed to make sure she travels safely" he nodded to himself. Yes he could still salvage this. He'd lose a few ships hunting down the princess in Shipbreaker's bay but that would be worth it.

Tarly crushed those hopes with the grace of a bucking bull "She is probably in Sunspear by now."

Mace growled at that and drank deeply to drown his sorrows. Fucking hell, he wasted time, gold and respect and was left standing by his lonesome with his cock flapping in the wind. The food didn't matter much. The Reach had plenty but it would take even longer to take Storm's end now. Worse was that the rebels were gaining in strength while he was bound by his own fucking truce.

Oathbreaker wasn't a title he could afford on any day. Especially not after he got shafted like that by the rebels. He sighed. Well, he could just play it as him being the loyal banner man doing what was right. He snorted to himself. Not that anyone with any skin in the game would believe that. Something his mother would be all too happy to point out, rub in, and salt on occasion.

He took another sip of his wine as he looked towards Storm's end. At least things could be worse. He could almost make out the figure of Stannis doing his daily patrol along the wall. It was too bad he couldn't hear his teeth grinding. It would surely put him in a better mood.

"Anything else of interest happen?" He asked more to get his mind of this disaster than any genuine interest.

Randyl did his best grizzly bear impression and growled out "Lady Ashara Dayne was spotted leaving Dorne through the Prince's pass and is traveling up the Ocean road. Men have let her pass since we're allies but the implications are clear."

Mace blinked and waited, he took another sip of his wine to draw out the moment. But nope, the bear's mouth had already gone into hibernation. "Remind us!" He snapped a little more abrupt then he normally would but he was feeling a little peevish after being made a fool by the rebels.

"The West what else" Tarly responded even shorter "Marriage for an army."

Mace raised an eyebrow " A Dayne for a kingdom?" He asked disbelievingly, that was rather cheap. Not to mention he'd heard rumors that that particular Dayne had been dishonored. No self respecting lord would marry her to his household knights let alone wed her himself.

Tarly snorted in either disgust or amusement. Knowing him probably mostly disgust "The boy is young and needs Dorne's support to legitimize his rule. He'll say yes and pretend she is the maiden herself."

Mace pondered that for a moment "Has my mother sent a competing offer? And what off the rebels?"

"The rebels back the sister and Lady Olenna is traveling to the Rock to negotiate an alliance with lord Tyrion while lord Willas has been sent to court Cersei."

Huh whoever agreed first or accepted the lowest offer. Hmmm not a bad idea. But he doubted it would work well with the rebels driving up the price. Maybe, he could influence things to go their way somehow. Hmm he needed to think this over.

"I think I'll retire for the night lord Tarly unless you have more information?"

The man shook his head and quickly drank his wine before slamming it back on the table and moving out of the tent. Mace got the impression the man was very eager to leave. Perhaps he had somewhere else to be? Hmm maybe he should ask around to see what lord Tarly did for fun? Maybe they could bond over it? Mother did love to harp on how important it was to endear your banner men to you. He nodded to himself and drank another sip.

* * *

**A week ago**

Ashara shifted a little bit as her dainty little ass reminded her yet again that she was not made for the saddle. But she was almost at the Tower of Joy so she held in her desire to take a much needed break. Even her hardened household guard seemed harried by the murderous pace she'd kept. She did it for a reason though.

Alaric expected her in the Westerlands in a month but she could linger at the Tower for a few days with her brother if she made up the difference. She wasn't blind to the possibility that she may never see her brother again after she was bound in matrimony. Either of them could die before the first snowflakes fell.

Though it was still summer, autumn was not far off and who knows what could happen. She certainly hadn't expected to be torn from Ned's arms only to be sold to a dwarf.

She looked on as two white cloaks walked out of the Tower in the distance. Ashara took a moment to admire their pristine white cloaks and polished steel, the widely acknowledged pinnacle of knighthood.

It was almost laughable how overrated they were. Sure they were the Stranger incarnate up close but a few arrows would kill them all the same. Even plate got pierced when fired upon in close quarters. Still, men loved their shiny pieces of metal and who was she to question that?

"Greetings brother" She announced herself if the rather prominent banner behind her hadn't done so already.

"Ashara" Arthur greeted her back, closely followed by his brother in arms. "What brings you here?"

Ashara shrugged "A few supplies so that you don't starve, another plea for you to abandon this foolishness and my marriage"

Arthur had already drooped his eyes in exasperation and had opened his mouth to once more refuse her before his eyes popped wide open "You're getting married!" he exclaimed "But?…Stark…Did he take you back?"

A flash of pain and regret stabbed into her but she let none show. "Of course not. That ship has sailed, capsized and is now feasting in the Drowned god's halls. " though she still wished it weren't so "No, the war is turning against us and would have been lost to us if King's landing hadn't burned. It was most gracious of the king to take out a rebel army to help his lowly servants" She drawled and enjoyed the narrowed eyes of Hightower and the shock in her brother's. "So prince Doran has decided to barter me away for that very same rebel army. Tywin is dead but his children live and both sides are scrambling to woo them. I'm the Royal attempt"

"How did King's landing burn?" asked Hightower before Arthur could ask anything

Ashara threw him an annoyed look though she knew they didn't get any news up here. It kinda was the point. "King Aerys ordered his Pyromancers to burn the City after Lord Tywin sacked the city. His grace was apparently most cross that his old friend entered as an ally only to turn his cloak and burn his city. So the wise king decided to return the favor tenfold."

Shocked stares greeted her cheeky explanation but she cared little. Instead she looked towards her brother silently hoping for him to see the folly in following Rhaegar's commands. She quietly ignored the curses directed at the now deceased lord of Casterly Rock.

"Why you?" asked Arthur in confusion "Wasn't there someone else? How could, Elia…?"

Ashara gave him a smile for ignoring the betrayal of lord Tywin in favor of his sister's nuptials. "I don't know about Elia but I think I was chosen for my beauty. No doubt tales of nobles making fools of themselves to impress me have reached prince Doran. He must hope for a repeat."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed together "And if this Tyrion casts you aside as well?"

She grunted at the stab at the scab that was Ned's memory "Then I'll cajole him to accept princess Elia instead. If he says no to that as well then I'll go home with my tail between my legs, instead of staying with his sword"

"You'd bargain Rhaegar's wife away?" said an aghast Hightower as if he couldn't believe his own ears.

She rolled her eyes at the hissyfit. "We're women. Being sold is what we're best at. Deal with it." It's not like you're being wedded and bedded by the end of the month she thought sourly.

None of them protested her being a broodmare, instead Hightower argued "Lady Elia married prince Rhaegar and as such belongs to house Targaryen, only king Aegon can give her away again."

Yes that's the real thorny issue here, Ashara thought "Sadly we cannot wait for Aegon to be weaned of his mother's tit so that another may suckle it." She yet again enjoyed the looks of outrage directed at her. "The Crownlands and Dorne are exhausted and only the Roses stand between us and certain doom. And we all know how helpful they've been thus far."

Everyone present grimaced at that flowery reminder.

"Lord Mace still hasn't left Storm's end?" it was more of an statement than a question but Ashara decided it deserved an answer anyway.

"Nope, still feasting and jesting to taunt Lord Stannis Baratheon. It may only be corpses inside by now but I'm not sure if Lord Mace would know the difference."

"How certain are you of swaying the Westerlands sister?"

Ashara shrugged "The boy has a cock. That's all I know. Usually that's enough."

He rolled his eyes at her "More is perhaps needed sweet sister. Not every man will gladly chop off his sword hand for the chance that you might look at him. I'll accompany you and add weight to your cause."

"You'd abandon your oaths?" asked Hightower sternly as he already loosened his sword from his sheathe.

Arthur smiled disarmingly at him "Lady Lyanna has given birth." as if that explained all, but when Hightower started to draw he continued "Prince Rhaegar only said to protect her until she gave him his daughter. Whatever love existed between them was lost when Lady Lyanna heard of her family's fate. Only the child mattered and it's the wrong sex." He shook his head slightly "Not that the prophecy matters anymore." He looked towards her again "Lady Lyanna yet lives and so does her son. We can ransom her back to the rebels to buy time while we raise sellsword hosts with Lannister gold."

Ashara raised an eyebrow while Hightower slid his sword back into its sheath as he considered it. "They'd risk the war for her?" he asked

"The way Ned told it, Lord Robert and he would do anything for her and Lord Arryn could never deny them anything for long." She answered truthfully. After a moment of recollecting some drunker tales she added "Lord Robert would happily bend over and ask for the Mountain that rides to bugger him if it gave him Lyanna back."

Both men grimaced at the mental picture and averted their heads. Ashara rolled her eyes at their hypocrisy. Two girls going at it and they drool enough to birth a river but two guys, Seven forbid.

Hightower gathered his wits again "I'll ask Queen Rhaelle. With prince Rhaegar gone and king Aerys missing she is the ruling Targaryen now. She'll decide Lyanna's fate but I will release you from your vow Arthur to guard the tower. We need Lannister swords to save the realm."

Ashara looked at her brother and wondered if he would actually help her. Sure the Sword of the morning still held sway but she was supposed to fight with her tits and nobles quickly found her face whenever Arthur was around.

"And we'll get them" she assured Hightower before saying "But you can't be my shadow brother. To get swords I need to make him unsheathe his, and he won't do it if he thinks you'll unsheathe yours and plant it between his cheeks."

Again both men grimaced at the imagery it conjured before their eyes but her point was made and they were unlikely to forget it.

"I'll remember sister." Arthur said grudgingly clearly not enjoying the prospect of standing idly by.

She looked into his eyes and saw the truth of it. He was ashamed of doing nothing, of being powerless but accepted it. He'd had plenty of practice standing outside the royal bedchambers while the king raped the queen. He'd look the other way for the sake of the realm.

"Good, now that that's settled. Where will lady Lyanna and her child go while we negotiate with Lord Tyrion." she asked

Arthur spoke up "She is too weak to travel and unwelcome in Dorne and the Reach will take her and trade her for a copper if we go north. She must remain here."

Ashara nodded at the wisdom and was slightly relieved. She would have welcomed spending time with Ned's sister once upon a time but now it was only a bitter reminder. Still, she had to see her for herself so that she could at least offer words of comfort should she speak to Ned in the negotiations.

"I wish to see her before we depart." she glanced over her shoulders at her tired company of household guards "And a few hours of rest for my men shouldn't be amiss either."

The Kingsguard both looked uneasy but eventually relented.

* * *

**Author notes**

Please note that Elia was not raped and murdered along with her children on Tywin's orders here. Noble hostages were worth a fortune in medieval warfare and a single great battle could capture the equivalent of twenty years of GDP in hostage ransoms. So it's inconceivable in this mindset to kill a noble when you are not forced to, chivalry aside. Ransoming her back for continued peace was the expected outcome should the city fall. That she was killed brutally pissed off Dorne as a whole and the Martels in particular. It sets a bad precedent for all nobles, like when the Freys violated guest right.

So the Martells hold no hard feelings against the Lannisters in particular making an alliance still viable in their mind. Desperation makes friends out of even hated foes.

**Ashara's appearance**

I'm using Yennefer of Vengerberg from the witcher as my base for how Ashara looks mostly because I love her sarcastic attitude and the looks match. That and I have not watched the show. I read the books back in 2010 after I read the show's summary and instantly knew it was going to be great. Sadly knowing every plot point makes the show boring as fuck. I still can't get past the first episode and it just feels like it's a waste of my time. Expect slow updates since i'm not confident on my characterization.

**Ashara's attitude**

Yes she does not act like a medieval woman should. She's not submissive at all to her brothers. I blame it on Dorne's more liberal mindset and her overall resentment where she does not care enough to hold her tongue. She is a woman who is out of fucks to give and is one more tragedy away from committing suicide. She is masking her sadness and grief with humor. When everything hurts and you see nothing that can help you, what else can you do but laugh and cry?


	3. The Fun's not in the face

**Chapter three**

Lyanna looked as well as she could be. She was well attended by a flurry of nursemaids and a Maester. The fussing was well warranted though, she'd bled through three sheets when she gave birth. Some complication occurred when the little babe popped his head out for some fresh air. The maester though had been well prepared and had a red hot tong ready to seal any wounds shut despite Lyanna struggling against it. No one could blame her though. Ashara involuntarily winced at the thought of red hot metal being inserted into her quim to burn her from the inside.

It was strangely enough a good thing no one at the Tower gave a damn about her comfort. She thanked the Maester for the information and moved closer to the woman who was still nursing her child in the sunlight by the window, doing her very best to pretend none of them were there.

She could leave now if she wanted to. She'd clapped her own eyes on her and knew her health. Nothing more was needed for a normal hostage exchange but it was the little nuggets of information that could be worth more than gold. So she better get to digging.

"Hello lady Stark, do you mind if I sit?" Ashara asked politely but no answer greeted her back. She blinked in confusion. Did she not hear her or was she just stubborn in playing her little game. She sat down and stared at her.

She always hated it when someone just stared at her from behind. It was like an itch you couldn't ignore or scratch. No response still.

She kept sitting there though and quietly listened to the baby talk. Eventually Lyanna turned to her "If you're going to sit there, you might as well make yourself useful and fetch me something to eat."

A nursemaid scampered off to the kitchen before Ashara opened her mouth "I could but then all I'd have to tell your brother would be tales of your gluttony." As expected that got a reaction out of her.

Lyanna chewed her lip before she said "You know my brother?"

Ashara wanted to both laugh and scream but in the end she just snorted "Perhaps I did or perhaps not." She mused quietly "I knew a Ned that said his wedding vows to me in front of a tree but a raven tells me of another Ned that said his wedding vows to a Trout. Can't tell which is real and which one hails from Braavos."

Lyanna's mouth opened in shock but it soon closed but her eyes told of her confusion better than words ever could. Ashara almost giggled. 'Honorable Ned' the greatest jest and farce the world had ever seen.

"He what?" Lyanna stuttered out "He would never, no wait." Memories played before her eyes "The king and the war." Her eyes widened again in realization before they calmed with grim acceptance "It's my fault then that Ned lost his wife and his honor." She looked sad for a moment before she put on a brave face once more.

Ashara poked the little cub and let him play with her finger "By that reasoning I should piss on Rhaegar's grave, not you. Besides two Trouts were sold for an army, Ned could have kept his vows if he really wanted to. Heck, he could have forced his brother to marry her and make their son his heir. The choice was his and he made it."

"Choice" Lyanna murmured "It's not so easy. Things may seem clear now but we forget things, pressing things. They were losing before Ned married. True they were divided then and were stronger than the king once united. But morale is like fire, it needs fuel, it needs victories or it will snuff out any chance of winning."

Ashara raised an eyebrow "I see Rhaegar kept in touch. And I'll grant you that, but I'll discuss it with him when I meet him next. Though I doubt things will go back the way they were. I still want to hear it from his own mouth."

Lyanna gave her a encouraging smile but said nothing.

Ashara decided to change the topic. "While I think of what to say to my ex betrothed you might think on what to say to yours. I doubt the rumors of a dragon rooting around in your fields have discouraged the stag from frolicking around in them"

Lyanna grimaced "From one brute to another. Yet wishing for a fairytale ending only makes it worse" She grumbled morosely

Ashara herself grimaced as well. Not so much at the reminder of Lord Robert's whoring ways but at the reminder of the implication that prince Rhaegar was a rapist. She'd been pregnant for most of the war and hadn't been able to make the trip to the Tower before but Arthur's letters told her she had gone willingly. She hadn't known who to believe back then, but this was no second hand account.

She wasn't about to ask though, It wasn't something a stranger could say. Trust needed to be built but there was no time for it.

"I had a fairy tale, only my ending will be with a dwarf" said Ashara to shock Lyanna out of her gloomy thoughts.

Lyanna turned to her in disbelief yet again "The Imp!" she exclaimed and then blurted out "Why?"

Ashara shrugged "The war. My husband gave me up for an army and I will give myself to a dwarf for an army."

She briefly wondered if a perverted Maester would ever calculate the worth of the great cunts of the war. Elia, Catelyn, Lysa, Cersei and herself had all or were trying to sell their bodies for an army. The title of the book could be 'The Whores that won the Iron Throne' She thought scathingly.

When she was done lashing out in the privacy of her own mind. She noticed Lyanna looking depressed again. "It won't be so bad. And even if it is then at least I'll have my children to coddle with." She repressed a brief flash of her own stillborn. Now wasn't a good time to start the waterworks.

She poked the little cub again and listened to his happy cry that soothed remarkably well "Just focus on him and ignore the rest."

Lyanna hesitated before reluctantly nodding. "Yeah, I'm sure things will work out"

Neither of them believed a word of it. But some things were better left unsaid.

* * *

**Three weeks later **

**Tavern near deep den**

Wooden beer mugs clunked into her ear and the smell of smoked ham wafted up her nose. The alehouses in the Reach had been notably barer than their Western counterparts. The fields she'd seen weren't idle nor were the men. No men were rotting in a far off field so no crops were rotting either.

It wasn't all refreshing rain however, Ashara glanced over her shoulder again to spot the Reach tail they'd had for the last fortnight. The man was either not trying to be stealthy or just incompetent. Or it just seemed so since Arthur had made him within an hour. Kingsguard weren't all for show, who knew?

Arthur's ass thudded beside her with a tankard of ale. His eyes swept across the tavern before he spoke "Eat up sis. I doubt the boy will love the feel of bones poking him in the morning. Men get real tetchy about who does the poking."

She grimaced, not so much at the thought but at who had said it. "If I believed I could keep it. I'd promise that I won't offend your ears anymore but I can't. So I won't. But should the Kingsguard really fall to my level for mere payback?"

He shrugged "No one recognizes me. I've no honor to uphold. It's freeing really. You could've been more gentle in breaking the news but it's in the past."

She jerked her head at their tail "You're sure about that?"

He rolled his eyes "Aye, but without the white cloak he didn't make the connection. The more I act like I've got a spear up my ass the more likely he'll get it. So the best thing I can do is pretend to have fun." He said with a wide smile and then laughed as if he told a good joke.

She laughed as well though more uncertain and forced "Fine" She accepted. She was glad the spear had been loosened but the ready admittance that it was only for show had her feeling uncertain.

She nibbled on her meal while Arthur took great gulps of his ale for a few minutes before a man wearing embroidered red cloth sat down at their table. A Lannister goon she wondered, had Tyrion sent an escort?

The man took a long draught of his beer before he slammed it down. mercifully it was empty enough not to spill over. "You look like you could swing a sword, perhaps even better than a Redcloak with some training." He said to Arthur

The surreal question made her head spin for a moment. The Sword of the morning was being treated like a novice?

Arthur smiled back "I've held one at least. Can't say much about skill though. Far too many stories of young lads that were the strongest in their village only to be skewered in a drunken brawl."

"Aye" he nodded pleasantly "You've got a decent head too. Good that will make this a whole lot easier."

"What's easier?" asked Arthur?

The man gave them another once over. His eyes lingered on their Dornish clothes before answering "You see the damn Imp got it into his fool brain to hold tournaments. Not just one or two but one in every bloody city. Small tournaments for little villages and big ones for the cities. The best part though is that he's offering copper for just participating. You just have to show up and get your ass handed to you and you'll get a week's pay. Easy right?"

Arthur nodded pleasantly while Ashara wondered what foolishness had possessed him. A week's pay in every city for just showing up? He'd be facing a horde at every tournament clamoring for his gold.

"It's only been going on for three weeks but every time the list opens, more boys line up to get their ass beat than the last. Of course some with skill will get ahead and qualify for the finals and that's where the real money is. You see if you win you get a few silvers and the right to compete in a Silver ranked tournament."

"Silver tournament?" asked Arthur dumbfounded

"Yeah copper is small scale and for amateurs and silver is for skilled fighters. I heard if you win a Silver one you get a Dragon. But the Gold ranked one is the best by far, a knighthood and a plot of land to call your own. You'd be a lord in all but name." He said dreamingly

And suddenly the dragon dropped. Tyrion was recruiting on a massive scale. The Copper tourneys gave his peasant levies some basic training and sorted out those with talent. Then he could recruit directly from the silver ranks for his permanent forces and finally the gold ones gave him bannermen that were loyal only to him. They'd sweat blood and tears to win the chance to swear loyalty to him and own land. No one who came that far would refuse and plenty would jump at the chance to swear after the hype even if it was without the land.

It would take some time but Tyrion would soon have a massive reserve army and a capable standing one to replace the one his father lost in King's landing. The real question though was how was he paying for all this?

The Lannisters must truly shit gold.

"Okay but what do you need me for?" asked Arthur

The man leaned forward and smiled broadly "Gambling man, gambling. I know everyone who's signing up for the tournament this week and I've made a boatload betting on them. But the fuckers aren't giving me any good odds anymore. So I want you to sign up and do your best. Heck I'll treat you to an all you can drink pub crawl if you win five times in a row?"

Implied was that he thought that Arthur might be a hidden gem to bet on but Ashara heard that he was fixing the bets. Arthur would be blackout drunk and be so hungover that he'd lose the sixth fight. The stakes should be high by then and he'd make a killing.

Arthur drawled out a long sigh "Sorry, I wish I could but I've got to get to Lannisport. Can't stick around but maybe next time?"

The man's eyes dimmed but nodded anyway. "Yeah sure, remember all you can drink if you win." the man then exchanged a few more lines before leaving, though he never spoke a word to her.

Ashara decided she had to know though and shouted out "Wait do you know how the Imp is paying for all this?"

The man turned and shrugged. "Word from Lannisport is that he sold the fleet. It was collecting barnacles for years until the Imp decided that it perhaps might be more useful to have them trading and fishing."

He rolled his eyes at the pearl of wisdom. "Didn't have time to oversee it himself though and despite plenty of cousins demanding the honor of commanding it, the lord decided to sell it. Of course only the nobles could afford to buy a ship by their lonesome and the King burned our crop of entitled idiots. So the imp told…"

He took another big gulp of ale and then frowned "Huh seems my throat is a bit parched, can't tell the tale properly when I'm dying of thirst." He looked at Arthur meaningfully for a moment.

Arthur grinned wryly and grabbed a handful of coin from his pouch "Nor should you!" he turned to a barmaid and ordered another round

The man took another swallow before sitting back down. "Where was I?.. oh right the Imp told everyone to form groups. Bigger groups for the bigger ships and smaller ones for the little skiffs and together they could share the costs and the profits."

Arthur blinked in surprise and asked "How'd they keep track of all that? If a ship has a dozen owners what stops someone from walking onboard a ship claim he was an owner and tell the crew to sail to another port only for them to be killed there by the scum that stole the ship?"

The man shrugged and pulled out a reddish looking coin. "Tyrion thought of that and created these medallions. Every crew member knows what they look like and every smithy in the Westerlands knows he'll do a sudden drop and a sudden stop in front of a tree if he is caught forging them. Each ship has their own medallion design and the more medallions you have the more profit and influence you have over the ship."

Ashara found it all hard to believe. it was all so strange and unheard off but the thing that bothered her most was that "He sold off his fleet?" Ashara asked after regaining her voice "Don't they shit gold?" Half the bloody point of her marrying him was to get at his thrice damned gold!

The man laughed "Aye this Lannister shits gold just like his father. Perhaps even better. Cuz he's building himself a bigger one with the gold he got for the ones covered in barnacles and the carpenters and shipwrights building it are now flush with gold and are gladly buying more Medallions." He pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket, unfolded it and slid it across the table "And they'd be fools not to, the first profits are in and at this rate they'll have earned back their money in a year."

Ashara glanced at the figures and noted rapidly increasing numbers but without careful study it didn't mean much to her.

The man leaned over and glanced left and right before adding in a faux whisper "And rumor has it that Lord Tyrion means to build more than just ships. Craftsman from all over are being invited to the Rock." He paused for effect "Naturally every beggar in the Westerlands is turning over every rock they can find for a copper to buy Medallions. So I'd recommend buying some before the lord runs out of ideas and you're left behind"

Ashara blinked at the end of the sales pitch. It was strange, every lord in Westeros was buying every implement of murder they could get their hands on. Everyone was fielding an army or hoarding supplies. Not even one would consider selling anything since their lives could depend on them. But lord Tyrion had happily sold off his fleet after the Westerlands had lost twenty thousand of their best fighters to wildfire. Every sane lord would be training his levies like mad to withstand the coming storm and hoarding iron as if it was more precious than gold

She glanced at Arthur's gob smacked visage before turning back to the man when she knew her brother was equally clueless "What about the war?"

The man shrugged "Twenty thousand levies are training at Oxcross but word is that the lord is negotiating our way out of the war. With luck none have to die for a chair that's more uncomfortable than a whore with the clap."

Ashara nodded and outwardly accepted that answer. Her mind was in turmoil though. She wasn't sure what to think of a pacifistic lord. They needed Tyrion to be hot headed and ruthless against the rebels. But would he really be on their side or would he follow in his father's footsteps? Rumors had it there was no love lost between him and his family. But family bonds were often deeper than one might think.

"So how about it?" The man prodded her to get back on track.

"Can I see it?" She asked distractedly

The man chuckled and handed the medallion over "It began with parchment but few could read and a few enterprising chaps thought it clever to change the lettering to trick people about their value. That's why these medallions are half copper and half gold. Hard to run a scam when you need gold to prove they're real."

He pointed at the medallion and said "One side shows a picture of the type of ship it represents and how many medallions belong to that ship and other basic information. Not enough to profit off of it but enough to not get duped. Besides you can just take it to one of the Lord's men to find out its value and how much profit you got coming to ya. So if I duped ya, then you'll find me a cozy home among the crows, if not then you go home with some gold." He smiled reassuringly while spreading his arms wide a bit.

Ashara nodded and couldn't help but notice the image of a lion engraved on the other side. A clever bit of propaganda there. The dragons on gold and the Lannisters on crimson gold.

Technically minting new coins was illegal without the king's permission but he was dead and with the rebellion it could be years before Aegon's rule was solid enough to outlaw them without risking another peasant rebellion. Regardless of who won, the Medallions were here to stay.

Ashara squinted at the small numbers but couldn't make any sense out of them "Can you explain the numbers?" she asked pointing to the numbers engraved on top of the ship pictogram

The man smiled once more "Tells you when the ship was made, where and by whom and what it's used for. There's a difference between trading and fishing ships and how far out they typically venture. It's a balance of risks and rewards and it's all shown on this little coin. These here are solid local fishing ships. A granny could sit by the shore and see they never pass the horizon. Nothing much can go wrong with them. So naturally they're more expensive than they should be based on their profits alone. "The man chuckled "Personally I'm stocking up on long venture trading ships, in the mad hope that they'll survive the war and make a profit before the autumn storms kick in. But it's best to start with these until you get your sea legs. I promise though you'll be trading with the best of them in no time!"

Another man nursing a bottle behind the red man spoke up "Unless you're fresh out of your mother's womb you'd stay away from that rubbish. Otherwise you might buy a ship that's already lounging around in the halls of the drowned god." The man hiccupped and gave Ashara a once over before glaring at the trader.

Arthur finally spoke up after seeing the lewd stare "Your tone suggests you had more coin than sense, should I look for a umbilical cord?" drawing the ire of the drunk man.

The man in red who'd approached them turned around and after only a second said "Go back to the gutter Queenfucker!"

Ashara eyes bulged at the profanity directed at queen Rhaelle and Arthur gripped his blade but before either of them could ask or threaten someone, the drunkard replied "Better a golden queen than a copper grubbing dwarf! The Westerlands used to be the fairest and strongest in the realm and now we're nothing but servants to the almighty copper! Only a strong heir born by Lady Cersei can set things right again!"

Ashara settled down though Arthur stayed vigilant. "Why do you call Cersei queen?" She asked the trader ignoring the drunken ramble for the more important morsel of information.

The man kept a wary gaze on the drunkard as he replied "She set out to marry a King. Everyone knew she would be one," He shrugged "Until the wildfire happened. The name stuck and now it's an insult for overambitious fools who don't recognize a good thing if it slaps them in the face with a mace!" He finished towards the drunkard

"I'd gladly kiss a mace before I'll scrape my knees before a dwarf!" The drunkard replied

The trader seemingly lost his patience "Then have a taste of mine! It'll be my good deed for the day." He stood up and drew his sword.

"You blind old man. That's a sword. It's bad enough when the elderly get uppity but crippled as well. My dear ma would turn in her grave if I killed ya." The drunkard replied before shuffling off, nursing his drink.

The trader snorted and sheathed his blade "Sorry about that but I had to speak his tongue for a moment." He padded his sword pommel for emphasis "Their skulls are too dense for words when they're sober, never mind drunk."

Ashara smiled at him and tried to keep her arms from crossing over each other "Does that happen often?"

The trader nodded "Aye sadly it does. Lord Tyrion is lord of Casterly Rock by all rights but the highborn love him not. Us, small folk and merchants however, love him to bits and after the wildfire there's a shortage of noble fools like never before." he cast a gimlet eye at the drunkard's back "Plenty of household guards left though to enforce the petty grievances of the widows."

"What do they call you?" asked Arthur as the tension seemingly left his shoulders and the drunkard disappeared into the crowd.

The trader grinned "Finally got around to asking my name have you or do your ears crave to hear 'The Imp's men'. " He paused "Ah, already said it, name's Ultyr by the way" He finished flatly, clearly more concerned about his failed witticism than the information itself.

Ashara blinked "That's an insult?" she'd called Tyrion an imp more times than Arthur polished his sword and everyone knew how shiny that one was.

Ultyr shook his head "Nah we're called imps, impfuckers, imp nob gobblers, dwarf droppings, copper grubbers, copper whores, imping whores, dwarf diddlers, dwarf plowers" he trailed off when he saw their faces "Anyways we decided to wear the name with pride. We're the imp's men and lord Tyrion is our Imp lord. " He smiled a bit in remembrance "If you just nod along and agree they get even madder than if you shout dragonwhore at them."

Her eyes widened "The Imp lord is not a fan of dragons?" She asked quietly, if so then she'd have to sheath her tongue until it tasted bread and salt before it could reveal its draconic traits.

Ultyr hummed "Don't rightly know, again it's just a leftover from when we were going to reinforce King's landing. Not everyone agreed at the time. Plenty of things were said. And after the wildfire even more things were said. " He paused for a moment "Word is that King Aerys burned it down on purpose. Many lost sons and husbands to the fire so dragonwhore is about the worst insult nowadays. But the lords never cared about our opinions and that'll never change." He said with grim acceptance.

Ashara nodded at the simple truth before fishing out her coin purse. She didn't know jack about these Medallions but the information was worth the coin. Better to be parted with coin for a few words than to keep it and receive a dagger instead.

She slapped forty silvers on the table "For the wise words"

Ultyr grinned again "Ah a purse fit to bursting I see. " He grabbed his coin before another could get a good look at them. "You're sure I can't persuade you to buy a Medallion? This right here will get you a whole fishing boat."

Ashara shook her head "Maybe tomorrow when my head is sober. As my father always said never mix drink and coin. You'll live longer." Shared profits sounded good but she feared shared losses. Ultyr could tell her she had to fork over a hundred dragons tomorrow for desperately needed repairs and she wouldn't know the difference.

Ultyr shrugged "Your loss then." He looked around until his eyes fixed upon a buxom but plain looking wench flirting with another man in the corner who didn't look interested. "I'll save most of it but I won't begrudge myself a few coppers either." He mumbled as he fingered his silver before he turned back to them with a shit eating grin "As my dear dad always said the fun's not in the face." with that said, he left in a beeline straight for the wench.

She snorted at Ultyr's speedy retreat and reluctantly smiled as he quickly negotiated with the girl before heading off to the barkeep. She couldn't help but shake her head at how hasty the man was, the poor whore was practically dragged along.

Arthur took a sip of his ale as his eyes trailed Ultyr heading upstairs before his coin finished clinking on the counter in front of the barkeep "A man shouldn't throw his coin away for a warm embrace but I can't fault his parting wisdom." He held his hand out and then lowered it to knee level.

She rolled her eyes, Tyrion wasn't that short. "He speaks, stays as quiet as the grave throughout but when the talk turns to whores he's a mummer full of wisdom instead of songs."

Arthur snorted "You asked enough for the both of us and plenty for me to go on later."

She blinked at that "Later?" Her eyes swiveled back to the other wenches prowling the tavern "Will I be alone by the fire while you warm yourself a different way, oh wise one?"

Arthur laughed "Gods woman that tongue is sharper than any blade I've ever seen. Makes me yearn for the simple days of my childhood before you were trained at kings landing but no I won't forsake my vows. I mean to ask some lowlifes about the Queenfuckers and the Imp's men, figure out how many would follow him or Cersei. Though the way things look I'd say Tyrion. The Medallion alone will sway them"

She nodded and thought back to her days as a lady in waiting. She hadn't seen much of her but Cersei left a lasting impression. Gossiping about her was a guilty pleasure many indulged in, and quite a few jokingly expressed gratitude that they were not her hated little brother. It was well known that she did anything in her power to undermine her little brother no matter how petty...or stupid.

"Cersei might just consider the Medallions a personal insult and melt them down and confiscate the fleet back. Anyone with a Medallion will be a diehard Tyrion supporter."

Arthur grinned as he finished off his tankard in a few big gulps "Haven't even met the boy but I'm starting to like him already." He stood up "Finish your meal sis and head to bed. I'm afraid I'll be here for a while." He looked around the room for a mark to pump for more information.

She rolled her eyes. Anyone could ask questions and two would be faster. But she didn't care enough to argue. The morning would come soon and she'd rather be rested. "Okay good night Arthur and good luck."


	4. A whore by another name

**Chapter Four: A whore by another name**

Ashara marveled at the green hills that were lightly covered in trees. She could often spot deers and hares running in the distance through the sparse wood. She had expected the area to be more mountainous and while there were many jutting high up at a sharp angle the majority was fertile instead of a stony wasteland.

Her expectations were based on the Red mountains that were higher, sharper and less fertile than a seventy year old crone and tales of the Vale that were plagued by savages. The Westerlands however, rivaled the Riverlands and the Reach thanks to the ingenuity of Tytos Lannister. "A genius unrecognized in his time" She commented softly as she watched the stream meander along its artificial path.

An army of golden dragons had shaved off hilltops and dumped it in the valley between them, blocking the river's path. It forced the stream to take a longer route allowing more plants to drink from it before it finished its long trek to the sea or Trident. It was an irrigation marvel that would have the whole of Dorne tip its hat in envy. The fact that the shaved hilltops now formed a straight road in some areas killed the second bird with the same dragon. Travel time was halved and wasn't nearly as hard on ox and wagon. Merchants would have praised Tytos' name if he had been allowed to finish his work.

She supposed that it truly was a kindness like Ultyr said, that the lords of the West were now all dead. Their ignorance and disrespect had harmed them more than this rebellion and the Nine penny kings combined. Tywin had won the respect back but he too failed to see its brilliance, too caught up in the talk of sheep.

As she rode she looked carefully for where easy improvements could be made. If Tyrion cared more about wealth than his army then it would definitely sweeten the deal, it would perhaps sway him more than her tits.

As she took detour after detour to follow the shaved hilltops she couldn't help but note Arthur's tension as he glanced left and right constantly. It didn't take long before she realized why. The roads themselves were a maze of sorts. They were easy to ride and thus very tempting but there were only short stretches of them and they often ended in a deep valley littered with large rocks.

She smiled as she realized the roads were bait to lead armies into ambushing sites. There were similar killing fields scattered throughout the Red mountains though those were carved into the very rock itself. Ashara briefly fantasized about being married to Tytos instead. A brilliant and well proportioned man whose kindness was his greatest flaw. Love could bloom there and she could keep his banner-men in line. But no, her fate, no her punishment for a single night with her Ned was to be married to a dwarf.

She stowed the resentment always bubbling just under the surface back down with finely honed skill. It was unbecoming of a lady to grimace at the thought of her future husband. She'd always known she could be married to a man with one wrinkly foot in the grave and braced herself for it. No, ugliness wasn't unbearable. She just wished it could have been Ned. A second son of a lord paramount and a beautiful but unimportant lady of Dorne should have been a good match in the eyes of lords and the Seven.

She'd had it all, only for it to be smashed by Robert's folly. She turned into a bitter old crone who still had her moon's blood for many more years to come.

The cheerful laughter of children echoed through the hills originating from the villages dotted throughout. They were untouched by war. She smiled at them as she rode past knowing many of them would die if she had her way.

Eventually though Arthur grew fed up with her detours and the countryside landscape gave way and the Rock could be seen proudly piercing the sky long before she could see the city below it.

She was reminded of King's landing for its sheer size but not architecture. For this city did not assault her nose nor was there a beggar nagging her ear off. In fact every man and woman spared her nary a glance instead of the jealous and contemptuous stares she'd grown used to. They were hard at work. New wooden buildings were erected outside the outer walls with a tent city sprawling around it. It was large but organized, not a mud puddle large enough to swallow a horse in sight.

She could say little of the inner workings though as she rode past it towards the Rock. The castle built on top of a gold mine stretched high into the sky but many said that was but the mere tip of the spear. It didn't take a fortuneteller to know that tunnels undoubtedly connected the castle to exhausted gold veins. Many speculated how deep the castle truly ran and if it would one day collapse on top of itself.

Ashara lost count of how many bards sang of great halls chiseled from the earth and how one day the Rock itself would take it all back and give the Lannisters to the Stranger.

The drawbridge was lowered and the guards at the portcullis allowed them in after seeing their banners. A few guards followed them through as they were escorted to where lord Tyrion was staying.

Ashara thought little of the men gripping their pommels surrounding her, instead she tried her hardest to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Though many a bard had praised her beauty and she'd shared many laughs at the expense of courting nobles with her friends, she wasn't immune. Some still despised her based on her Dornishness alone, an outsider.

Now she was dishonored and her appeal dropped further if word of her stillborn child had come north with her. Even bumbling teenagers knew a mother was looser than a maiden. Tyrion might consider marriage with her an insult the same way other nobles considered marriage with him an insult.

A lovely pair they made, thrown together like dented scraps of armor, born out of necessity and practicality.

She blinked when she realized they'd stopped in the courtyard instead of moving deeper into the castle. They'd not even moved past the first inner wall. She heard Arthur loosen his sword in his sheath before she spotted Tyrion. He was hard to miss despite his size.

There right in front of them he stood without fanfare, covered in soot. She'd dismissed him as an blacksmith's apprentice for a moment until his unsteady gait had betrayed him. Why was a lord working as a blacksmith?

Her eyes lowered as he drew nearer with a wide smile "Forgive me my lady, your arrival caught me off guard." his eyes glanced at the Lannister men surrounding her and she felt more than saw the tension in them rise.

She smiled at him while subtly pushing her chest outwards to display her finest goods "Perhaps I will, if you tell Arthur how he can improve his pallor like you my lord. He's dreadfully pale for a Dornishman, it's simply unbecoming" She said with mock haughtiness. Based on the rumors she heard in the nearby villages, Tyrion loved sharp wit and jokes more than gold. Some even paid bards to craft jokes for them so that they may gain his favor.

As far as known weaknesses go, it was surprisingly simple but superb. Those bound in honor would never bend and end up dead, those with a weakness for whores and drink were plied often and lived but not for very long. Their own vice cut it short but jokes you could never have enough off.

At her joke Tyrion's gaze shifted to her brother and after he gave her brother a slow once over he said "I see the Sword of the Morning has finally risen. All the maesters in the land must be scrambling to write this momentous occasion down for all know that the sword rises in the East, not the West."

Arthur stiffened beside her at the implication and she rushed to interject before things could end in dripping swords. No salt had yet passed her lips.

"He rose there yes but what comes up must go down eventually my lord. Besides he couldn't allow his sister to travel through war torn country unaccompanied. Pesky vows prevent him from letting his sister be entertainment for bandits regardless of how lovely my singing voice can be. Knights are selfish like that."

Tyrion's amused snort dislodged some of the soot clinging to his face "And what wish was made on this falling star I wonder?" his gaze swiveled back to her and the amusement gave way to a penetrating stare.

Ashara let a brief frown ruin her features before she was all smiles again. This wasn't supposed to happen. Why was Tyrion being so hostile? No time to find out though. "Friendship off course. Many lives have been lost, making those remaining to us all the more precious. Dorne has long felt the bitter loneliness of being an outsider and not truly fitting in, so how could we ignore a friend suffering the same chill when he needed our support? You are our friend are you not?" She asked sweetly

She saw Tyrion's eyes narrow slightly as he grasped that Doran Martell was willing to support his reign in return for an alliance against Robert. He stilled for a moment as he contemplated before he barked out a laugh

"A thousand miles away and still Cersei manages to pinch my cock and make me scream." The laugh abruptly cut off and the glare returned "Your king killed my brother but I can only fondle my balls and bend over because my sister is already on her back."

Ashara grimaced at the imagery despite how much she liked his artistry with words.

She didn't know whether to be more concerned with the 'Your king' or the 'Sister on her back' part. "Aerys died as the king to no one. Dorne was held hostage through Elia. We hold loyalty to Aegon only for her not the dragons." She quickly assured, no sense in drawing a hard line when Aegon wouldn't come of age until she was growing grey hairs. "You're lord of the Westerlands yes, but your sister is lady of the Riverlands and the Westerlands. People say two heads are better than one and perhaps the same holds true for kingdoms?"

Tyrion smiled wryly at her "The pass at the Golden tooth is narrow and Lord Mace's beady and greedy little eyes are fixed on the Stormlands. The Rebels won't assault me for years for fear of him expanding his feast" His hand patted his stomach, leaving a vague black hand print behind that went unnoticed by him.

Her attention wasn't drawn by his theatrics though but was focused on his face. Ashara spotted a glimmer of a challenge in Tyrion's eyes and she realized this was a test. He wanted to know her stripped of her courtesies. He wanted to know how she'd react without carefully rehearsed lines to fall back on. He'd see how she'd adapt and see her true feelings towards him below the veneer of courtesies.

She wouldn't reveal her heart but she would show him her wit, prove herself worthy of being his wife. "Aye it may hold and we gain nothing from piercing your neutrality but what happens when we lose?" She said with a provocative smile

Her smirk deepened at his raised eyebrow "I won't deny it, blustering and swinging iron cocks about is for men. Dorne is spent and the Crownlands are conquered and Mace's loyalty is like a rudderless ship in a storm. We need you to survive but so do you my lord. Cersei is or will be part of their marriage alliance centered around the Tullies. When our heads are on spikes, Robert's eyes will be nagged in your direction. And you may delay a few years while the realm heals but Robert's wrath will always be slumbering, just waiting for an excuse to call the banners, anything to get rid of the headache that is Cersei."

Tyrion snickered at the jest against his sister "So they sent more than a pretty girl and her boorish brother. Aye only a fool will claim I can wear the pelt of a Stag while my sister lives but that doesn't mean I wish to wear a dragon's either. If Dorne promises friendship then the Rock will agree so long as it's treated the same as Dorne. Promise me I will never have to bow to a Dragon and i might consider it."

Ashara looked towards her brother who was seething at the insult, at the betrayal really. But they couldn't be picky. A limited alliance was better than none. "Will the Rock be independent then?" She asked quickly before Arthur could find words to express his anger.

Tyrion's eyes flickered between them before he sighed "Perhaps if that weren't an insult to every would-be king out there. No, the Rock will crumble before the might of the Dragon but this lord will never bow before one that's all." he smirked again at their faces "A petty difference I know. You might think me vain and stupid but some things can not be forgiven or forgotten. Only ignored. Forcing myself to the ground will make that far harder than it needs to be."

Ashara's eyes widened in understanding. The Seven kingdoms would be no more. There would be only six and the Rock like Dorne would be part of the Six kingdoms through marriage but still largely independent. An independent kingdom in all but name.

She nodded while Arthur faked a smile. Grudgingly reluctant wasn't ideal but it was king Aerys' legacy, that they already knew.

Tyrion cleared his throat "Well now that we've established that I'll lend my ear and not throw you out. I think it's time for some refreshments." He turned to a servant "Show them to their room while I take a bath. We'll eat in an hour." with that he bade them farewell and left.

It wasn't long before they were both safely ensconced in their new rooms though they had yet to taste bread and salt.

"That could have gone better" Ashara said bluntly while eyeing her pacing brother.

"The little.." he swallowed his words and stared at the walls for a moment before he resumed pacing. He spoke quietly barely above a whisper. "Men said the walls had ears in the Red keep and some said they extended to every keep. I'd not like to test that tonight."

Ashara did not nod or acknowledge it in any other way. "Most men grow quite big at the sight of me Arthur. I know it's vexing for a brother to see but some things cannot be avoided." She said to provide a reason for his outburst for any listening ears even if it rang hollow to her ears. Tyrion had not been as enchanted by her bosom as she'd hoped.

Her brother shot her a brief smile as he strode past her. After that none of them spoke until they were collected for the meal. Though they both desperately wanted to discuss Tyrion and his desire to be independent of the realm and how much leeway prince Doran had given them in this negotiation. Both however, feared that was exactly what Tyrion wanted and thus remained silent.

* * *

Tyrion sunk a little deeper into his tub after his spies informed him that his guests had not spoken a word. Perhaps he'd been too heavy handed in provoking a response and they saw through it?

Well no matter, the negotiations were young still and he didn't need a peek into their minds to win it. His eyes drifted to the whore currently attending him and he let out a little sigh. Sure he had better marriage prospects than he had imagined but eating the same dish every day would undoubtedly get boring.

After making doubly sure that a nice pair of tits wouldn't unduly distract him Tyrion dressed and walked towards his dining room. He took his seat and waited for his guests to arrive. The lady Dayne and her brother arrived with smiles as expected and seated themselves.

"Help yourselves" he gestured at the filled pastries sitting on the table and was unsurprised by the quick but elegant feeding frenzy. Once the first tasty morsel passed both their lips they noticeably slowed down. He smirked. Normally people would act as if being offered guest right was standard fare but they'd made a show of it to rub his rudeness in his face.

He sipped a bit of his wine before setting it down with a deliberate clang to draw their attention "Before we're all fed and watered and would like to retire for the night I'd like to discuss some business. An alliance is all well and good but words carried by the wind or on parchment have a habit of withering with age." his eyes were fixed on the lady Dayne. He knew the dog and pony show they were going to put on but he needed to know how repulsed she was by it. The farce in the courtyard told him much but not all he needed to know.

Lady Dayne flashed him a bright smile before she quickly looked down again as if chastising herself for her eagerness. Then she looked up once more with a more demure smile and said confidently at a slow pace as if she was savoring the words. "Prince Doran recognizes this and would like to draw our families closer together. Sadly the Martels have no daughters of an age for such a happy union which is why I gladly volunteered." She looked like the blushing yet eager wife that starred in every man's dream. She managed to combine innocence that could still be corrupted by her husband with accidental sex appeal.

Tyrion had to commend her acting ability, no grimace or hesitation but long years with Cersei taught him that anger was the fastest route to the truth. "A service you've volunteered before I hear." he prodded

Ah there was that grimace he'd been waiting for, no lady liked being reminded of their failed marriage, especially when it wasn't even recognized.

An awkward silence descended upon them punctuated by her brother trying to kill him with his eyes alone. The lady Dayne pressed her lips together tightly before they parted "My lord has better ears than most I see. Very well I shan't deny it, I married Eddard Stark for love before the old gods. I was happy and gleefully looked forward to our first child but then the war happened."

She tried affecting a dry carelessness as she narrated "Many lives were ruined including mine. I was set aside by a raven instead of a man in favor of a trout. I can lay blame at the Dragon and the Stag's feet or even the Trout's but the Wolf made its choice." Her eyes narrowed and her nose twisted subtly in disgust "The bards aren't wrong when they sing that the seven hells hath no fury like a woman scorned." She finished with a brief glare directed away from him, silently conveying how much hatred she had for her former husband.

God's he was liking this woman more and more. She'd just thrown a wagon full of manure at him and told him to eat it by dousing it with some perfumed truth. Scorned yes but the anger was all feigned. She'd run back to Eddard as soon as the wolf wagged its tail.

For a brief moment he felt envious of the second son of the North for snagging this treasure of a woman whereas the second son of the West had to make do with the leftovers of her heart. Doubly so since it was true affection and not gold and swords that made her marry Eddard.

His mind drifted to Tysha and the what ifs that could have happened. He'd happily have given her all the gold in the Rock to enjoy their life together until his final breath even if it was a lie. But his father happened and the lie she spun for him itched Tyrion's pride fiercely and it took too long for him to realize even prideful men succumbed to thirst in a desert. Tysha was gone and so was his happy mirage.

He'd gotten rid of his pride but the lie never tasted as sweet when it was first told. No whore could hold a candle to her, no matter how fond he was of them. There was no love for a dwarf. All they wanted was his coin and all the Dornish Red in the world couldn't make him forget that. Even this woman, dishonored though she may be was too good for him and only came for his support. A whore by another name.

The priciest of whores but a whore nonetheless. Better a whore though than a blushing virgin. He was used to whores, he could deal with them.

"Ah choice, every bard praises it and every lord curses it." He swirled the wine in his goblet "Late at night I ponder the great choices of our time, prince Rhaegar, king Aerys, lord Robert and lord Eddard all made choices that shaped the realm. My father wanted to make the most important choice of all, but king Aerys bested him at last. It now falls to me to make one, a Flower or a Desert Star which is lovelier?"

The non sequitur threw off the lady Dayne again and he savored her shocked surprise for a moment before he elaborated "Young feet won the race but the old crone is marching closer as we speak. I put her at a week's ride from here."

"Ah the answer to a bidding war is to start another one is it?" Ashara asked with false amusement.

Him vs. Cersei and her vs. Olenna Tyrell. He paused for a moment "It seems to be in fashion. I have no doubt the Reach is entertaining my sister and vexing poor Lord Hoster as well."

"You think a raven will get through?" Ashara asked doubtfully

Tyrion shrugged "Loyalists aren't just nobility and Maesters. The question is really if Cersei will lower herself to speak to a servant."

"Rumors have it she wouldn't even see them, besides do you really think she can stomach the harshness of an escape into loyalist territory? She'd turn around as soon as she got a bit of mud on her dress."

Tyrion smirked at her "Interesting negotiating tactic, bolstering my position." if Cersei got two competing offers then she'd get a much better deal and use it to come after him. If she didn't get two then Tyrion didn't have to worry about Olenna turning her cloak at any moment and Cersei had to eat what the fish gave her. He could draw out his own negotiations.

Ashara rolled her eyes "And weakening Olenna's while retaining the resentment of her double dealing, not to mention improving your respect for me."

"Ah yes" Tyrion chuckled "Can't forget that little tidbit."

"Now that we've established how each dagger is pointing at whose backs and in what order can we get back to that decisive choice you were about to make my lord?" Ashara prodded cheekily

"Well the Desert Star is definitely shining brightly tonight but I'd have to wait for the morning to truly appreciate the flower."

Ashara's lips thinned for moment "Seems I'll need to sharpen my own dagger for lady Olenna. "

Tyrion shrugged "Yep" No way was he going to agree to anything without looking at the competition. Lady Olenna might somehow be able to collude with Ashara but it was worth the risk.

"How about a trade deal to sate your appetite?" He asked "I know you came here for gold and that I can provide in exchange for some concessions. Do you have the authority to act on prince Doran's behalf?"

That really was the stickler here. Ashara could be as close to princess Elia as a sister but that didn't mean squat when Prince Doran disagreed.

A smile returned to Ashara "I do, but only if I'm to be married and a military alliance is formed as a result." a hint of shyness was portrayed by her cheeks while her eyes betrayed an underlying desire to be married to him and all that entailed. A marvelous performance of the blushing maiden.

Tyrion blinked at her stipulation of marriage and felt uncomfortable at the thought. He'd gladly welcome her to his bed if it was truly her desire or his gold that brought her there. But he'd seen one too many maidens who smiled through the courtesies while his father watched only to cry in a corner when they thought they were alone. He was certain that Prince Doran and her brother were forcing her into this.

He had to sidestep the marriage issue politely. "The military alliance I can agree to provided it's defensive in nature. I won't be strong armed into attacking Riverrun. I will attack when I'm ready and willing and no sooner. In exchange I expect the same in return. Dorne will support me if I'm under siege and they will not allow a trade embargo against the Westerlands."

Ashara looked towards Arthur who was frowning heavily before they conferred in quiet whispers for a moment. Arthur spoke however, "Define under siege and the response time should Dorne be under siege."

Tyrion smiled. Good, they weren't stupid enough to ignore the loopholes in vague wording. Also very convenient right now since it distracted them from any pending nuptials. "Siege stretches to when an army has entered or will soon enter your borders and can be reasonably expected to pillage and plunder your lands. It is not limited to an actual investment of a castle and two months is the deadline for reinforcing your ally. Failure to meet said deadline will result in penalties namely ten thousand dragons per month payable in gold or cattle until you relieve your ally with more than a token force or the foreign army leaves "

Both Daynes had a constipated look about them as they processed his terms. Terms that were slanted in his favor simply because he could afford the penalties more easily.

They stared at one another for a moment before they nodded "Agreed provided that we can renegotiate it at any time except when one of us is under siege."

Interesting caveat, a raven with prince Doran's amendments was in his future. "Okay now that we've got the basics done how about tariffs and that gold I promised hmmm" He pretended to think deeply for a moment "I'm willing to loan Dorne one million gold dragons at four percent interest with a stipulation that they can only spend those dragons in the Westerlands. You need a thousand spearheads? Then buy them off our smiths or use your own gold to do it."

Ashara opened her mouth to respond but he held up his hand to stop her "And you drop all tariffs between our two kingdoms." He finished with a relish to emphasize it

Ashara was frowning now while Arthur just looked confused. "We can't just drop all our tariffs" she exclaimed "it would be chaos and how can we rebuild our army without that income?" Her education in household management gave her a better grasp on a holding's income than her brother who lived off a stipend and obsessed over the sword.

Tyrion shrugged as if to say 'not my problem' "Either you take the million dragons now and rebuild it within a few months or you keep your tariffs and rebuild it over the course of a few years."

Arthur cut in "It would take years to get all the lords to agree to lower their taxes. Even a million dragons to rebuild Dorne may not be enough to convince them when they themselves will never see that money. To them it would be a sacrifice and nothing more. They might join the rebels before they'd give up their tariffs."

Tyrion didn't mull Arthur's words over. He didn't need to. They'd misunderstood his intentions from the start. He flippantly replied "Then commend them for their loyalty and just lower the lord paramount's taxes instead. I will do the same and it will be a low tariff zone instead. Surely the Martells can afford that when they have my gold to tide them over?"

Ashara glared while Arthur blurted out "Fine then. We'll agree to your terms but the tariffs are only removed for five years and no more"

Tyrion wanted to snort but through sheer force of will he kept a passive face. If this had been lady Olena then she would have cackled at him before refusing outright. The tariffs weren't the sticky point, heck they were mutually beneficial in the long term just not very convenient during a war.

The real problem was the stipulation that they had to buy from the Westerlands. A million dragons was a lot of money even for a Lannister but this way he'd get part of it back through taxes on his people right away and the rest in time when Dorne paid back his loan. He'd happily agree to more loans. The more they borrowed, the more they spent and the more his economy got stimulated at their expense instead of his. The tariffs were just a distraction and he'd happily scrap it all together. Lower Tariffs would make his people and his descendants richer but he'd lose out in the meantime.

Emphasis on descendants, as in not within his lifetime. It had the same problem his grandfather Tytos ran into. Better infrastructure created greater prosperity but too slowly for Tytos to leverage for more loyalty with his lords. None of them cared about the long term when they could die tomorrow. Despite the Targaryen reign preventing some wars, life was still short and brutish. Gold was better spent arming soldiers who kept you alive and in power than on a workshop.

After all paying 93 dragons for a workshop that gave a yearly return of one and a half dragons meant it would take 62 years to see a profit. Nobody felt charitable enough to build something while neglecting his sword so that his murderer could reap the profits.

Any lord with a hollow war chest was considered weak, especially by jealous neighbors and disloyal vassals. The Rock had never been hollow but not a single vassal gave a fuck about his grandchildren having a single dragon extra either.

Security trumped greater prosperity and few invested in anything beyond a holding for their spares. So when Tytos offered loans they only saw a first date Fiona instead of a wife. They forgot the reason why but they all disdained copper grubbing.

Dorne was no different. Prince Doran may have a reputation for carrying a grudge for years before acting on it but the man still cared more about politics and strength of arms than his economy. He'd see the reduced tariffs and realize that his merchants would get outcompeted by Westerland merchants and fear a plot to create lasting market penetration and asymmetrical trade relationships or whatever. He'd negotiate exclusions for whatever merchants were especially loyal or move to scrap it all together for some other concession.

He'd only see the loan as a tool to hold sway over Dorne and the stipulation to keep them dependent on the Westerlands. He'd insert a clause saying that Westerland merchants can't hike the price for Dornish customers to ensure the loan didn't lose purchasing power but he'd neglect what it did for the Westerlands economy.

Tyrion repressed a smirk as he thought about Prince Doran's misguided nitpicking about the five year reduced tariffs as he reached out his hand "I can shake on that" And clasped the hand that Arthur had raised out of habit.

After a moment's hesitation Ashara reached out her hand as well after Tyrion and Arthur were done shaking to seal the deal. More momentum than anything else

A servant came in to clear away some of the eaten dishes and to top off his wine. His guests' were barely touched.

After another small sip Tyrion sighed with exaggerated weariness "My back is aching already." he turned to Ashara who was gazing into the distance before her lips moved silently at Arthur but they went unnoticed. "How are your numbers?" he asked before the siblings could discuss the deal more attentively.

Both Ashara and Arthur tensed up and cast a wary gaze at him "They're excellent as befitting a noble house" said Arthur stiffly.

Tyrion nodded pleasantly "Good, good then I can foist off some of the work on you if we do get married."

"What work?" asked Ashara hesitantly as she watched him take a deep gulp of Dornish Red.

"Keeping track of all of Dorne's purchases off course. My ass alone will complain enough for the both of us from just listening to the small folk ramble on and on"

He enjoyed the frown on their faces as they processed that nugget "The answer is yes, if you're wondering if I'll add them up to match my loan. You might also be interested to know that I have another million dragons collecting dust in my keep so do spend all of your gold in one place."

Arthur glared at him as if he'd just taken a piss in his onion soup. "We need gold to hire swords Lannister. We don't need it to buy whatever your merchants are peddling. We'll all die if we don't back up the Tyrells. They'll falter and switch sides if they alone stand before the rebels."

Ashara chimed in "Lady Olenna will bargain all of us away and Cersei will be all too glad to tell her the going rate for a dwarf's head."

Tyrion snorted "Aye they'll betray us as soon as lady Olenna dies or if the war drags on too long. Mace doesn't have the charisma to keep them going. At best the Fossoways of Cider hall or the Florents smell opportunity and rebel and at worst he sells his infant daughter to be made Robert's queen."

"That's why we must act now!" shouted Arthur as he stood up, only to be pulled back into his seat by a small hand fiercely clasping the back of his cloak. Clearly Ashara tried to make it less obvious but the sudden jerky movement of her shoulder gave it away.

Tyrion rolled his eyes at the bluster while only glancing at Ashara who tried to act like she hadn't just smacked her brother down like a misbehaving child "Act against whom? Our allies who haven't betrayed us yet or our enemies who are licking their wounds. I have no intention of poking either bear. No better to strengthen ourselves first and discourage both from acting through sheer implied might"

"Then tell us oh wise one. How should we spend your gold?" said Ashara wryly

Tyrion paused. He honestly didn't know off the top of his head. There were plenty of things he wanted to change in the Westerlands to increase production but he didn't want to share that with anyone. Heck half the reason he favored Dorne as an ally was because they couldn't use some of his ideas whereas the Reach could do them even better than him. No sense in letting his wife tattle on him and ruin him.

Heck he didn't even have to "It might be cheaper to buy food from the Reach now but without tariffs it'll be cheaper to buy them from my farmers instead." from a purely economic perspective that would be very inefficient but fuck'em.

"Use your own gold to buy mercenaries and get everything else from me." And conveniently starve the Reach, and the free cities of their funds.

"That's an awful lot to be dependent on you for my lord" Ashara questioned while throwing her doe eyes at him. She leaned over as she looked at him pleadingly which accidentally displayed her cleavage. Even her brother cooperated by focusing his full attention on cutting his meat pie.

Tyrion shrugged if he hadn't been milked properly he might be tempted to throw her a bone but he was. So his second head had no say in the matter. "Then don't do it, you don't have to spend everything at once. I'm offering free money here and you're looking at me like I'm a disease ridden whore"

She straightened up again when she heard the rejection and her tone turned sour "I'm grumbling because there has to be a catch somewhere. Everything is your proposal not ours."

Tyrion nodded "Aye that it is but if that's your problem then I advise you not to let the door hit you on the way out. I don't deal with prideful idiots"

Ashara glared at him some more and Tyrion took the time to deliberately stare down her dress. She'd been trying to get him to do that the entire evening and it seemed right to indulge her a little bit. He even affected a pleasantly vacant look on his eyes to please the lady.

His glazed eyes softened her look and hardened her brother's but eventually after a few minor concessions on his part they both agreed on the deal as is. Not that it was worth the parchment it was written on until prince Doran agreed. But it was a start and a good initial proposal to be sent by raven to Dorne.

* * *

**Author note**

To be honest i don't really know what Tyrion should ask for in these negotiations. A promise of land seems most logical but his neighbors are the Iron isles and the Riverlands. Not exactly prime real estate. Yes the Riverlands are fertile but they are also in the middle of the continent and thus in the middle of any war.

So i focused on wealth creation and leverage rather than taking it by seizing land.


End file.
